Tangerine dreams
Our creative writing degree teeters on the brink of cliche often, but last night's lesson really took the pith. In two-and-a-half hours, my notebook consists of a page, all about my reaction to a satsuma. All the students were given a satsuma (I'd like to see the expense claim for that), asked to describe it, touch it, sniff it, peel it and eat it. My contribution, a knowing treatise on how ridiculous the whole exercise was, was described as "typical Laurie" by the teacher. Other contributions, after I'd picked myself off the floor looking at a load of middle-ageds sniffing small discoloured fruits, were eliptic, involved and traumatic, with one woman magaing to weave the satsuma into her troubled home-life and Christmas in a scullery. Another called it a dank sphere (the orange, not Christine's home life). I'm hoping my creative instincts are right, otherwise there's gonna be a whole lot of fruit sniffing round our new place.
Listening: New Radiohead downloads (£1.74 paid); Alison Moyet new stuff; Steve Earle
Watching: The Wire Season Three (genius)
Reading (still): Wait Until Spring Bandini; Patrick Hamilton's Slaves Of Solitude
1 comment:
I paid nil for the new Radiohead album. I view it as a try before you buy. I'll contribute once I've considered its merit and will pay accordingly. At the moment it's worth about what you paid for it, but I've only listened once.
Don't forget to reply about the Xmas meal BTW!
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